the gazelle state

​The red, sleeveless dress clung to her body like a sin she dared not commit. She shrouded herself in a thick feather shawl, desperately trying to hide from the boisterous eyes filling the gala. Her steps were hesitant; she could almost hear the frantic thumping of her terrified heart drowning out the sound of her own nervous heels. She reached up to adjust her glasses, wishing the glass lenses could shield her from the entire world. ​Suddenly, her balance faltered as a violent shoulder-check almost sent her sprawling to the floor. ​"Oops! Is that you? I didn't recognize you, you useless girl!" ​Nour’s provocative laughter echoed through the hallway—a laugh that had haunted Raghad since their school days. Nour, who had never forgiven Raghad for her academic brilliance, wore an expensive gown and looked at her with eyes full of contempt and mockery, before turning her back and walking into the luxurious hall with fake pride. ​Raghad’s breath hitched. She bowed her head for a few seconds; it felt as if time had frozen in that narrow corridor. ​But this time, there were no tears. ​Slowly, her posture straightened. The tremor left her shoulders, replaced by a sudden, chilling confidence. A sharp, mocking smile tugged at her lips, and she whispered in a self-assured tone, "Ugh... why is it so suffocatingly hot in here?" ​With a swift, dismissive motion, she stripped off the feather shawl and tossed it into a nearby trash bin as if it were a worn-out rag. She then snatched off her glasses, revealing eyes that radiated boldness and defiance. She pulled the clip from her hair, allowing her long, dark locks to cascade down her back, masking the mysterious old scar on her shoulder. ​She pulled a blood-red lipstick from her clutch and defined her lips with surgical precision. ​Her hesitant steps transformed into a steady, provocative walk that seemed to crush the floor beneath her. She entered the hall like a queen claiming her throne, indifferent to the whispers around her. Her eyes were fixed on one target: Nour. ​Passing by a table, she gracefully snatched a glass of wine and moved slowly behind Nour, who was showing off her dress to the guests. With a movement that looked entirely accidental, she tilted her hand, spilling the deep crimson liquid slowly and steadily over Nour’s expensive white dress. ​Nour gasped in horror as the fake "blood" stain spread across her fabric, spinning around in blind fury. She was gripped by hysteria as she saw Raghad standing before her with a cold, enchanting smile, whispering, "Oops... I didn't see you! So sorry." ​Nour lost her mind. She raised her hand to strike Raghad’s face in front of everyone. But before her hand could land, Raghad’s hand moved like a viper, gripping Nour’s wrist with an iron strength that froze her in place. Without hesitation, she returned the slap with a force that echoed through the silent hall, leaving Nour trembling in shock and terror. ​Raghad looked around with disdain and said in a sharp tone that shook the room: "Damn you, and damn people like you, and your pathetic party!" ​She turned to walk toward the exit with pride, but the length of her dress hindered her swift movement. In a reckless, impulsive move that stunned the guests, she grabbed a sharp knife from a nearby table, and with swift, decisive strokes, she shredded the long train of the dress, transforming it into a short dress that gave her freedom of movement. She dropped the knife to the floor and continued her exit with confident strides. ​On the other side of the hall, a man stood in the shadows, watching the entire scene with wide-eyed astonishment. It was Haytham, the richest man in the City of Plains, who topped the list of the elite and was one of the ten most important men on the continent. He had founded his first company at eighteen and continued to rise until he became the wealthiest man in the City of Light. ​He stood frozen, witnessing her audacity. For the first time in years, the stern features of his serious face softened into an amazed, calm, and profound smile. His shock was mixed with a secret admiration he had never experienced before. A man who had spent his entire life shackled by protocols, calculated plans, and responsibilities that stifled his soul, found himself suddenly enchanted by her primitive rebellion. He felt for a moment that this girl had done in minutes what he had wished to do all his life: to be spontaneous, to shatter the rules, and to walk away without looking back. ​He followed her with measured, quiet steps, driven by a lethal curiosity and an overwhelming desire to discover the identity of this rebellious enchantress who had turned the party—and his world of restrictions—upside down. ​He stepped out after her, exploring the darkness of the night, only to see her red silhouette moving like a rebellious flame under the dim streetlights. She walked with a pride and confidence that piqued his interest. Before he could approach or call out to her, she raised her hand with a smooth, confident gesture to hail the first taxi that passed by. ​She opened the door and slipped inside without once looking back, and the car sped away, disappearing into the bustling city alleys. ​Haytham stood still, his eyes tracking the departing car. He touched his lips, which still held that stunned smile, and felt his curiosity reach its peak. The rebel in the red dress had left, leaving behind a sharp scent and a burning question that would haunt his mind throughout the night: Who is she? ​The cold morning sun rays crept through the window cracks, waking Raghad from a deep, heavy sleep that felt like a nightmare. She opened her eyes slowly, feeling a strange weight pressing on her chest. She tried to rise, but her blood froze in her veins when she turned; on the edge of the bed sat that charming crimson velvet dress, but it was not as it had been... It was shredded in a glaring, chaotic manner, its edges frayed as if a fierce battle had taken place between its velvet fabric and the hands of a rebellious hurricane. ​She had barely absorbed the shock or understood how the dress reached her room when the silence of the house was shattered by a piercing scream from the floor below. It was the voice of her grandmother and her uncle, filled with fury. ​She descended the stairs with trembling steps, her heart pounding with terror. As soon as her grandmother caught sight of her, she shouted, eyes blazing with sparks: ​"How dare you?! How could you ruin the company gala with your ignorance and reckless behavior last night?! You’ve disgraced us in front of everyone!" ​Her uncle interrupted her with a venomous, stern tone, clapping his hands together: ​"As punishment for what you have done, you will never set foot in the family company again! Your dreams of working with us have evaporated; we will punish you by stripping you of this position entirely!" ​Raghad felt completely bewildered; her memory was a total blank regarding what they were talking about. But her fear of confronting them made her swallow her lump of grief. She clasped her fingers together and said in a trembling tone, trying to muster her courage: ​"W-well, that's fine... I'll just look for work somewhere else."